Chapter 16%
I raised a hand. “I faked my death to survive. And now, I’m not hiding anymore. I’ve returned to claim the crown they tried to burn with me.” Reporters shouted questions, trying to out–yell each other.X
“Is this true?”
“Were you kidnapped?”
“What about Reagan and Dulcie?”
“Are you filing legal charges-
I held up a hand again. “No comment on them. Yet. But let me make one thing crystal clear.”
I stepped forward, locking eyes with every soul in the room.l-
“I am no longer scared. I’m no longer broken. And I will no longer sit quietly while thieves wear crowns built on my bones.”
Dead silence. I turned, walked off the stage like I owned it–because I did. Salvatore was waiting, his expression unreadable. But I saw the storm in his eyes.3.
“You really did it,” he said softly as we strode out to the black car waiting by the curb.
“I told you,” I murmured, sliding into the leather seat. “It’s my turn now”
He slid in next to me, and for a long moment, we just sat there in silence–until he reached over, fingers Brushing mine.
“You know this is warn
war now, right?” he asked.
My smile was slow, sharp. “Good. I’m ready”
And for the first time in years–I meant every single word.
I was barely off the phone with my head stylist when Salvatore walked in, holding a sleek black folder like it was a gift from the gods. One look at his smirk and I knew–whatever was inside was going to make me laugh.
He tossed it onto the table in front of me, “You’re gonna love this one.”
I raised a brow “Another dirty little secret from the De Santis bloodline?”
“Even filthier.“X
I flipped open the folder, expecting boardroom betrayal or another crooked bank account!
What I got… was a full–color, high–definition photo of Dulcie. Naked. On her knees. In front of John De Santis
My laugh exploded before I could even stop it–sharp, unholy, echoing off the penthouse walls.
“Oh my god!” I gasped, wiping a tear. “She’s screwing his dad now?”
Salvatore sat across from me, lighting a cigarette like he was at the fucking opera. “Apparently for a while now. She’s been bouncing between father and son like a broken pinball“!
John always was a dirty old playboy.” I said, flipping through more photos. “Tried to come at me once on my bithday. He told me I had ‘eyes like sin.” I told him he had breath like death and balls like raisins. Never came near me again.”
Salvatore barked out a laugh. “You’re fucking savage,”
I leaned back, legs crossed, holding up one of the more graphic photos. “Dulcie really went full demon for this crown, huh?“!
“She’s desperate,” he said. “Always has been. Chasing your throne through every man you touched.”
I stared at the image for a second longer, then slowly lowered it “Do we leak it?”).
His eyes glittered. “That’s your call, queen,”
I smirked. “Post it. Everywhere. Make sure it hits the socials. Let’s ruin their morning, Sal.”
“Oh, Salvatore added casually, “and I had my people dig a little deeper into Geneva.”
I arched a brow “What did you find?”
He slid another document across the table. “Confirmed. Total hysterectomy. Two years ago. Quiet. Private. Covered with hush money. Dulcie can’t bear children. Not now. Not ever.”
The silence between us turned electric.
“Oh, I breathed, my voice soft with venom. “That’s the final nail.‘“}
“You want that public too?
Hooked him dead in the eye: “I want the world to know the woman who tried to steal my crown can’t even produce an heir. She destroyed my life for a throne she can’t OLX
“Consider it done“.
That night, the internet exploded
The photos were posted anonymously through encrypted channels–strategically leaked across luxury gossip sites, influencer pages, and private social media circles where rich people fed on scandal like cavior. The headlines were merciless
“De Santis Dynasty in Ruins?“)
“Dulcie’s Double Life: Sleeping With the Father, Marrying the Son’s
12:42 PM c
“Sources Confirm: Dulcie Unable to Bear Children After Secret Surgery”
The damage was instant. And beautiful.
By morning, Reagan was exploding. The De Santis name was trending–for all the wrong reasons. And when I say exploding–I mean rage, violence, destruction.
Salvatore’s people told me Reagan stormed into their estate like a lunatic. Threw his phone at a wall, Screamed at his PR team. And then -he turned on Dulcie. The confrontation was brutal
Reagan accused her of sleeping with his father to get closer to his inheritance. Called her barren. A snake. A manipulative whore. She tried to scream back, but she was shaking
He hit her.
A vase shattered.
“YOU LIED TO ME!” Reagan roared.
“IT WAS BEFORE YOU!” she shrieked. “I loved you!”
“YOU CAN’T EVEN GIVE ME A SON!” he screamed. “You think I’d marry a broken, bamen whore?!”
He lunged.X
She ran. Someone cried. Dulcie ran–bleeding, bruised, humiliated–from the front gates.
And me? I was in my suite, wearing red silk, drinking champagne, watching the chaos unfold through my secured tablet screen.
I saw her picture–the one taken right as she ran, smeared lipstick, split lip, fear in her eyes.!!
And I laughed.
Full–body, soul–deep laughter. Like I was exhaling every moment of pain she’d ever caused me.!!
I clinked my glass against the edge of the table and whispered, just for me. “Run, bitch. Run like I did. Like I had to. Only this time.”
I took a sip, eyes glinting at the screen.
“You’re running straight into the end.“)
I stood, walking to the balcony. The city below sparkled with life, completely unaware of the empire I’d just razed to the ground. I was calm. Poised. Powerful Decause the difference between Dulcie and me? She wanted my life. My crown,
But I built it. And now–I was taking it back. One shattered lie at a time.
12:42 PM ct D
